Chapter Two
Bleed
What you've found sure upsets you
Never saw it coming did you?
Its easy to be surprised with both your eyes sewn closed
Handled with great precision, another thoughtless execution
You're the subject of this exhibition
A willing cadaver, a willing cadaver.
Scalpel, sutured.
Made whole again.
These cuts are leaving creases
Trace the scars, fit the pieces
Tell your story, you don't need to say a word.
Call off the cavalry, can't save a wretch like me.
Clean this with kerosene.
If you can't leave it be might as well make it bleed.
-Dashboard Confessional "If You Can't Leave it Be, Might as Well Make it Bleed"
Squall
He lay on the cold white marble, almost blending into the table, his skin was so pale. He wondered where they were... his mind was breaking into little pieces, falling to the ground...
The sky was above his head, the sun shone down on him but it was cold and the sun was sickly, a pale color. He wasn't sure if the sun was dead and maybe the moon had taken it's place.
She had always loved the night as he recalled. The city she grew up in, Deling, had come alive only at night. He had met her in the moonlight as she smiled. And the final battle... that had happened at night too... or whatever time compression had at that rate.
So cold... so cold.
That is what she had screamed as ice shards shot into his naked upper body. His pants had long ceased to really keep him warm, they had reached the temperature of the room and offered no protection. His arms had been bound by thick iron chains and his Griever necklace held his neck in place.
If he could think clearly, the irony of the situation might have reached him. Imprisoned by the one thing that stayed by him always. Although, realization had long ago come that his friends had never left him.
By fate or otherwise, they had all stayed together, one way or another they all found themselves drawn to each other. They hadn't abandoned him as he had once believed.
But now... where were they? His mind was muddled and sleepy. When was the last time he had been warm...?
Far too long, he realized but there was no time for thought as a kiss so hot it burned landed on his own frozen lips.
He almost screamed in agony from the pain and the joy of feeling returning to him. Her once brown eyes gazed into his own, covering him in molten gold and he felt himself falling...
Seifer
No one to help him. No one would look at him. Over 4 days now, since he had wandered into the forests of Trabia and found his past dying.
He wondered what the point was... why was he still alive?
He would have gone down swinging, but he was so tired by the time it had ended. Fujin and Rajin had saved him, in their own peculiar way. But now he was alone.
He had told them to leave, they weren't branded, or at least not as branded as he was. Their eyes were so full of hurt as he finally told them he had had enough of their self-sacrificing bullshit.
He wanted to die. He wasn't cowardly enough to do it on his own though. Only an idiot would do that, Hyne knew what they were thinking...
He wanted to get them all. Those foul bastards who had stolen his glory and his life.
His world. He would have shared it with her... she was so willing to save him and he would have done anything for her. But she was a lie. Just like Garden just like... whatever.
Damn, he shook his head. I'm starting to sound like Leonhart.
And now I'm fucking talking to myself. Fucking brilliant.
God dammit!
He hit himself in the temple with his knuckles, hard. Blinking, he looked around him at the red sands of the desert and sighed.
He had been wandering for Hyne knows how long. He was fucking sick of it. He didn't know where he was and he hadn't known for almost 3 days. His mind was starting to drift off down paths far too dangerous to wander.
He didn't actually… remember very much of his time as a Knight. At first… it had kind of been a game to him, he supposed. When it had become real, he wasn't sure. Deling City was a joke. The President had been someone he had despised as a pompous, weak bastard even before he had met him and verified his beliefs.
He didn't really look dead either. When the President was just lying there, it seemed kind of funny. He looked like he was asleep. How could he be dead? How could someone as small and beautiful as his Sorceress have broken this man?
Did she need him? With all this power, he didn't know. He wanted her to need him though, so he proved himself to her again and again.
Coming up with the supposedly ingenious plan for Trabia Garden… Capturing Squall and torturing him until he screamed and was out cold. All of these were Seifer's ideas. Ideas so that he could be indispensable to her. He was all too dispensable to everyone else it seemed.
It had been all too easy to break out of detention and run to Timber, all too easy to go a little bit too far.
All too easy to follow her to the point of no return.
Little boy…
His jade eyes clenched shut as he remembered her, the way he wanted to remember her. Not Matron, they weren't the same person.
But her. Ultimecia. He would have teased her about her name if he had gotten to know her better.
He still loved her, in the way that a Knight does. Undying loyalty and all that shit.
But he didn't know if he would redo his transgressions. If given the choice, he might have turned away, or shoved his Hyperion into that disgustingly wonderful woman, seen her face crumple into the perfect death.
But it wouldn't have killed her. And then who would be Sorceress now? Selphie?
A bright and happy, yellow sorceress. Intent on peace and love. And how long until she got corrupted too?
He wondered what would have changed if he had never taken that final step that put him into the history books and onto the Most Wanted List.
He wondered if happiness could really be achieved by something so simple and so necessary.
Somehow, he didn't think so.
Suddenly a sandstorm blew across the plains, obscuring his vision and sending grains into his eyes. He quickly closed his eyes but then the storm slowed and he opened them again, bringing an arm up to shield himself. A shadowy figure lifted an arm in front of him.
"Oh… shi-" he managed to whisper as he whipped out his gunblade and brought it bear quickly enough to deflect a spar of ice aiming straight at his heart.
A dark chuckle nearly stopped his breath and he looked up in sheer disbelief into cold slate eyes that were as cold and dull as the blade which their owner held
The figure stepped forward and Seifer took an involuntary step back.
It was Squall.
Hmm…what do you think is going to happen. wiggles eyebrows
I'm fairly happy with Seifer's thought processes and now to step into the mind of Squall.
Oh god…
Squall: Whatever…
Seifer: Like I fucking regret a minute of mass destruction.
Maybe I shouldn't have given him a soul…
Anyway, I know this chapter is short but I've been having to write them during school because my computer at home isn't working so well.
And I would've updated sooner but my life has been upside down lately haha…
Thanks for R and Ring Miss Almasy.
That's the first review I've ever gotten. :(
God I'm sad.
Kami